Death Note: Remnants
by Wraithmanilian
Summary: Death Note: Remnants begins where Watari's life ends. Theresa, Watari's great-granddaughter, returns to Wammy house to help the orphanage. Rinotsuki, an orphan, is being considered for L's position. The Shinigami King's Death Note is gone, and Ryuk is...
1. Ch 1 Coming Home Again

*** AUTHOR'S NOTE ***

Greetings to all. This is my first attempt at a fanfic to be posted here. First off, I need to clarify one thing specifically so that there is no confusion:

This Death Note fanfic is based on the live-action movies "Death Note", "Death Note: The Last Name", and "L – Change The World" ONLY. This fanfic does NOT cover the anime or manga, and treats the movies as canon.

That said, please enjoy this first chapter.

* * *

*** Death Note: Remnants ***  
Chapter One – Coming Home Again

"_A kingdom founded on injustice never lasts."_  
Lucius Annaeus Seneca

Theresa looked up from her coloring book. She saw a figure, walking down the hallway passing by the wide archway leading to the room she was coloring in. His eyes were distant. His posture was slouched in such a way that she suspected that either his governess was lacking in enforcement or something was wrong with him. Great-grandfather had always told her not to stare at others because it was rude, but sometimes, a sight such as the one before her drew such curiosity that she couldn't help but watch longer than she should. Stopping briefly in the hall, his eyes looked upward toward the large stained-glass window near the entrance.

Barefoot? She had just noticed. He stood there, barefoot, his hands in his pockets, in clothing much larger than his frame needed, staring intently at the stained glass. Finally curious enough, she looked to the window as well, searching for the source of his curiosity as intently as she had been earlier looking at him.

Sculpted within the framework of the meticulously crafted stained glass window was an image of a man, kneeling next to two children, which appeared to her to be a young boy and girl. Beneath the image were the words "Omnia Mutantur Nos Et Mutamur In Illis." She was wondering what that phrase meant when she realized that he was looking at her. Turning her small head, she looked into the sad eyes of the young man who was, in turn, looking into hers. She felt a little funny, sort of like when Great-grandfather Wammy stared at her when he knew she was guilty of doing or saying something wrong. It was almost like he was searching through her very soul, looking at every bad thought or deed she had even considered.

"Can you hear them?" The question caused her to jump as if touched by lightning. He had never spoken to her before, and his voice had startled her out of her imaginings.

"I'm sorry…what?"

"Can you hear them?" he asked once again.

"Can I hear…" She looked once again toward the stained glass, listening intently. She could hear her breathing, the swooshing sound of her still-excited heartbeat in her ears. She closed her eyes, unconsciously, as if the sudden depravation of light would suddenly make things clearer.

"…the bells."

She opened her eyes once more, looking into the eyes of this young man once more. His eyes, still fixed on hers, no longer looked sad, but humorous. Suspecting that she was being tricked, she asked, "What bells? I don't hear any bells."

Slowly, the corners of his mouth rose to form a slight grin. "I can hear them," he said, "but they seem very far away today. That's a good sign, I guess. Sometimes, though, they are loud. Sometimes, they are so loud as to wake me from my sleep…"

Looking behind her, a young boy sat coloring in a book in the far corner of the room. He was new here at the orphanage, and she did not know his name yet. Turning back to the archway, she saw that her conversation was over, as the young man once occupying that space, staring at the stained glass, and listening to imaginary bells, was gone.

* * *

Theresa sat up slowly, rubbing her eyes. Reaching to her nightstand, she groped around until her fingertips touched the familiar feel of her glasses. Slowly, she put on her glasses and gave her eyes a few seconds to adjust to the darkened room. The clock said 4:45am. She woke up earlier than the alarm again, though this time she wished that she hadn't.

It had been a long time since she had dreamed about L. It had been years since she had a conversation of any substance with him, especially once he was older and began his work as a detective. World famous detectives were a rare commodity, and he was always needed somewhere. Most recently, he had been working on the Kira case. Everyone knew about Kira, and the fact that L had waded into the investigation in Japan. Her Great-grandfather had even gone with him. That in itself wasn't unusual, because he was L's handler. It was the fact that Grampy hadn't contacted her once since they went to Japan, no communication of any kind.

Kicking her feet out of the bed, she crossed the room and went to the bathroom. After her shower, she dressed in her jeans and sweatshirt. No sense in ruining her better clothes, she thought. Walking to her car, she looked down the still-darkened street. No one was up yet, but she knew that this wouldn't last for long. Morning comes early in the city. Light was breaking on the horizon as she cranked her car and headed to the shelter.

Minutes later, she found herself parking her car in front of a familiar building. The structure was old, maybe 50 years. It was weather worn, and a few different kinds and colors of paint shone through in various spots on the aging brick walls. The hand-painted sign over the door read "The Children's Outreach Shelter". As she quietly entered the building, she saw her friend Janice had gotten here before her.

"Good morning, Janice. You sure got here early," she said. Janice was an older woman in her eighties, with a short, wispy figure and graying hair. She was always smiling, and always had a kind word to anyone who spoke to her. She had seen Janice calm the most unruly and violent-prone street children in a matter of seconds with that disarming smile of hers and her calm, soothing words that could convince the devil himself that everything would work out for the good.

"Good morning," Janice replied, "I take it that you don't have no morning classes today?"

"No, ma'am, you're correct," Theresa answered. "I checked the online schedule and my even my evening classes were cancelled today. No reason was given, but it may have something to do with that huge Kira-Support Parade planned for this evening. I'd say that a lot of the student body will be there, waving their signs for one side of the issue or the other."

"Lord bless, I'd hate to have any business downtown today," said Janice, a slight chuckle slipping in between her words. "Those poor people 'll be packed in there like sardines. I tell you, I just don't understand people no more. I went to support marches when I was younger, child, but it was for things like civil rights, for the right of people to live dreams, regardless of the color of their skin. This Kira nonsense, though… Now that's a whole different matter."

Turning from her prep-work for breakfast, Theresa looked to her friend and smiled a bit. "You marched in the civil rights marches? In Washington?"

"Yes, I most certainly did," she said proudly, holding her head a little higher, her smile broadening wide. "I wasn't near the front of the group, or anything, so I didn't get to see a lot, but I heard the words of every speaker. I heard of dreams dreamt, wonderful dreams where all men were equal regardless of race or creed, where equality reigned as a law of the land."

"Well, I think that there has been a lot of progress since then, don't you think?"

Without batting an eye, and with a sweet grandmotherly smile, she said, "If all of Dr. King's dreams had been realized today, we wouldn't be making breakfast here at the shelter this early morning, now would we?"

As the morning progressed, other volunteers arrived and the children began arriving for their morning meals. They came from all sorts of families and backgrounds. Theresa made sure that everyone got their share and that the school age kids had what they needed for school that day. Pencils here, paper there, these children got what they needed here.

As she walked to the storage cabinets to retrieve some folders for one of the older kids, Theresa's cell phone rang. Looking at the screen, it said that the call was from the Wammy House. Opening the phone, she said, "Hello, Grampy? How are you? I've not been able to talk to you in a whi-"

"Theresa," the voice on the phone said calmly, "This is Roger."

"Roger?" Theresa was a little confused. Mr. Ruvie had never called her before. "Mr. Ruvie, is everything all right?"

Silence. After a few seconds, he said, "Theresa, we need to talk. It's about your Great-grandfather…"

* * *

With 160 hp, 356 cu. in. L head inline eight-cylinder engine, with three-speed transmission, coil spring independent front wheel suspension, longitudinal semi-elliptic leaf springs and live rear axle, and four-wheel hydraulic brakes, the 1941 Packard Super Eight One Eighty Convertible Coupe was a beauty. Slowly, Rinotsuki applied the glue to the final piece, the hood ornament. As he lowered his hand to apply the piece to the car, the door to the room opened. Looking upward, he saw Roger standing in the doorway. His features were dark; something happened, something bad.

"Rinotsuki," said Roger in an almost inaudible volume, "Quilish Wammy has been killed."

Rinotsuki felt cold coming at him from everywhere. L was with Mr. Wammy. "Did you call Theresa?"

A shocked look crossed Mr. Ruvie's face. "I was going to call her after telling you. Aren't you going to ask…"

"I already know. Kira. And L?"

"L is alive. Kira was killed. At least, that's what his report said. He also said –"

"You can tell me the rest later, Roger. Please call Theresa now."

Roger stared at the young man building the model car. He just didn't understand this one sometimes. Turning, he left the room, closing the door behind him.

Rinotsuki stared at the door for a while after Roger had closed it. Looking down, he saw that the glue had dried on the hood ornament. He hadn't placed it on the hood soon enough, and now a perfect build was impossible. Pondering this a moment, he tossed the ornament into the trash. He picked up the incomplete model car, looking it over with an expert eye.

"Tell me, Mr. Model Car," Rinotsuki asked the model, "Why is it that you were the one, the imperfect, the incomplete, that I will always hold dear and cherish as a memory?"


	2. Ch 2 Reunions, Reminiscence, and Ryuk

*** AUTHOR'S NOTE ***

Greetings to all. This is my first attempt at a fanfic to be posted here. First off, I need to clarify one thing specifically so that there is no confusion:

This Death Note fanfic is based on the live-action movies "Death Note", "Death Note: The Last Name", and "L – Change The World" ONLY. This fanfic does NOT cover the anime or manga, and treats the movies as canon.

That said, please enjoy the second chapter.

* * *

*** Death Note: Remnants ***  
Chapter Two – Reunions, Reminiscence, and Ryuk

"_A good man would prefer to be defeated than to defeat injustice by evil means."_  
Sallust

Ryuk sat silently at the edge of his world. Bored. Reaching for his note, he opened it slowly to look upon the last page that he had used. There, plainly written upon the page, was a single name: Yagami Light. Just yesterday, Light was a vibrant and gifted, though misguided genius. He had the aspirations to become the god of a new world, one of his own designs. He had outwitted L at every turn until the very end. Today, L burned both Rem and Jealous' notes. L wanted nothing more than to rid the world of the influence and power of those notes.

After that, he knew how boring things were to become, so he came here. When Ryuk first returned, he noticed several shinigami walking away from the entrance. They had been watching. Many of them mocked him after his return, calling him an overachiever and worse. A couple warned him of the anger that he had apparently created with the Shinigami King. As Ryuk sat there, pondering what to do to stave off this growing boredom, he heard footsteps approach him from behind. Ryuk closed the note and returned it to his side, waiting for the King to speak first. Though he hated it, he learned a lot more from Yagami Light than he would ever admit to anyone else.

"Ryuk," the King said in his slow, rumbling voice, "we need to talk."

Turning his head behind him and upward, Ryuk looked into the dulled eyes of the King of the Shinigami. He was once the most feared shinigami by mortal men, and was respected by all of the others of this realm. Now, studying his hunched stance, his lack of care for personal appearance, and his overall slothful demeanor, it was apparent to him that Shinigami Daiō has been losing his touch. He was not in his natural form, but in a hulking, semi-humanoid appearance that the other shinigami kept. He only took this form when he decided to walk away from his throne, and it usually required something important for that to happen.

"Yo, old man," Ryuk said, "what's happened that's so important to heft you out from under your chains?"

"You, Ruyk," he replied, "You are what brought me here, seeing how you didn't come to me when you returned from the human world." His gaze on Ryuk was unwavering, his face was expressionless. Ryuk held his gaze, thinking through the conversation before it started. "Did you bring me a gift as apology for your arrogance?"

Reaching into his pocket, Ryuk plucked a plump red apple and held in his fingers for a moment. Watching the old man's eyes shift from Ryuk to the apple was satisfying. This meant that he was still negotiable. Not wanting to seem a tease, Ryuk tossed the apple to the king who, after examining it briefly, took a huge bite. Seizing the opportune silence, Ryuk decided now was the time to begin explaining his brief departure, as well as Rem's loss.

After relaying the story, Ryuk sat and waited. He picked up a stone and sat it flat on the ground next to him. Waiting for reactions was always the hardest part of conversing with the old man. Ryuk then picked up another stone and placed it on the one he sat earlier.

"Ryuk," he said after finishing the last bite, "Why must you insist on telling me all of the things that I already know and avoiding to tell me the things I want to actually know? I have been watching this entire time. Your fixation on this Yagami Light has cost me two shinigami."

"Now, hold on," Ryuk objected, waving his hand in the air, "You can't hold me responsible for what happened to Jealous! I had nothing to do with that."

"None the less, Ryuk," said the King, "Jealous and Rem were both linked to that Misa girl, and she, in turn, was linked to this Yagami Light." Pausing a moment to think, he looked toward the entrance to the human world. "Ryuk, why did you go? Why did you bother?"

Picking up a small stone and placing it on his growing pile, Ryuk answered simply, "I was bored."

The King, placing his hand on his note, looked down at Ryuk, frowning. "You do remember, Ryuk," he said in a threatening tone, "You are not immune to this note I have. Many think I should kill you just because of the information humans have now about us and the notes."

Ryuk never looking up, continued to play with the rocks absently. "No, I don't think you will."

"Oh, really? And what makes you think that?"

"That would require effort. You haven't written a name in that note in greater than a thousand years," Ryuk said, looking up at the King once more. "Besides, if I were gone, you'd be bored as well."

The Shinigami King carefully studied Ryuk's features. If he was afraid, he wasn't showing it in the least. Looking down, he finally noticed the small pile of rocks beside Ryuk. "Ryuk," he said, with a deal of amusement in his voice, "Where do you think you are? _Sai no kawara_? Are you trying to escape from here?"

Looking down at the rocks a moment, Ryuk smiled. Looking back to the King, he said, "No, no Shinigami Daiō… I just thought that you might make a pretty good _Shozuka no Baba_." On finishing his sentence, he plucked a second apple from his pouch and tossed it to his king.

The King, fuming, caught the apple. With the King turning and walking away, Ryuk knew that he was safe for now. He watched as the master note flopped against the King's leg as he took his slow, huge strides to return to his throne. Inwardly, Ryuk smiled. _Maybe_, Ryuk thought, _I'm not as bored as I thought I was._

* * *

Theresa arrived at Heathrow thirty minutes early, a record in all of her times taking transoceanic flights. Grabbing her luggage at the claims area, she walked outside and hailed a taxi. The taxi driver popped the boot and loaded her luggage, then proceeded to open her door. After entering the taxi, he asked, "Where to today?"

"Winchester, 89 Kingsgate Street," she replied. The driver, smiling, eased out into the traffic. He knew the distance, and the fare, that he would be getting from this length of trip.

Within minutes, they were cruising northbound on the M3. The beautiful scenery did little to lift her spirits. It was simply too difficult to imagine her Grampy gone. He had always been such an inspiration, not only to her, but to the children of Wammy's House. She imagined that the children, both present and those who left were very distraught. She had already contacted her father, who told her that he was on his way to Winchester himself.

Grampy Wammy had adopted her father when he was four years old. His parents had died in a horrific plane crash. Her father, just a toddler, was the sole survivor. There at the crash site, he waited for three days and nights in the wilderness. When help arrived, he asked the paramedics to wake his parents for him. Grampy Wammy had brought in the resources for the rescue, and was present to assist where he could. He watched over her father while the rescue teams began the recovery effort. On their return, Grampy discovered that her father had no other living family, so he adopted him without hesitation.

After college, her father met her mother, and not long after they were married, Theresa was born. Her father named her Theresa after Mother Theresa, a fair and gentle soul who, much like her Grampy, looked after children in an orphanage. Once Theresa was older, her father would allow her to travel from London to Winchester to stay the summers with her Grampy at Wammy's House. It was there that she met L.

Over the years, she became close to L, even though he never particularly acted close to her. In honest reflection, she knew that she had a crush on him at the time. As an adult, she recognized the feelings for what they were. Being a world famous detective now, he probably recognized it as well. She blushed, thinking that when she saw him again, it would be the first time since her "young love" era. Honestly, she hoped that he would not bring it up.

Looking out the window, she saw the sign for Wykeham Arms, a pub near the Wammy House grounds. As the taxi slowed near its destination, she took in the sight. It was as if time stood still here. Nothing had changed since her childhood, and even the gardens-

"That'll be £78.41," said the driver, still smiling.

Opening her purse, she only then remembered that she was only carrying American currency. After a quick calculation, she handed the driver $100. "Keep the change," she said. The driver, still smiling, got out retrieving her luggage, not knowing that the change was about £0.64.

As the taxi drove away, she lifted her bags and entered the gates to Wammy's House. There were a lot of vehicles here, many of them parked along the roadside after filling the parking areas of the grounds. Looking towards the main doors, she saw a familiar face. Standing in the doorway was Roger Ruvie. The sadness in his eyes was reflective of what she expected to find inside. Catching a slight movement, she looked up to see a curtain closing in one of the upstairs rooms. That was…

"Theresa. Welcome home." Looking back down, Roger approached her and took her by the hand. "Let me take your things in. Everyone's inside." Turning to look toward the upstairs area, he gestured, "Most of the kids are upstairs with Rinotsuki. I'm kind of worried about him."

Her gaze returning to Roger once more, she asked, "Why?"

"Well, I can't say that he's acting abnormal, at least as far as his normal action go… He just, well, he's acting normal."

Normal. It was almost funny, had she known less about the inhabitants of Wammy's House. No child here acted 'normal' according to society's standards and definitions. Roger had meant that Rinotsuki's actions had not changed since being informed of Wammy's death. Thinking back, she really didn't know Rino-kun that well. She saw him a lot growing up, but most of the time he was a loner, keeping to himself. It wasn't that he was anti-social. She remembered seeing him a lot during her summers there. It's just that, he was there, just not _right_ there.

Taking her bags, Roger led her to the large doors leading to the entrance. Looking up, she saw the stained glass. Omnia Mutantur Nos Et Mutamur In Illis. "All things change, and we change with them," she said softly. Now was the time that the orphanage's words were being challenged, and she sincerely hoped that Roger, the kids, and herself was ready for that challenge. Looking to the doors, now opened before her, she looked inside, with only one thought engrained in her mind…

_L, where are you?_


End file.
